Bolt From The Black
CORUSCANT
Drystan nodded and fell in step behind Valery. Taking out any patrols would have been easy—but easy didn't mean quick. Any delay could cost them precious time.
He let the seasoned Grandmaster take the lead, following her into the maintenance shaft. Moving swiftly, he could sense the faint presences of multiple patrols nearby, but the two of them remained unseen as they navigated the narrow passage.
"Damn. I was hoping we'd have more time to investigate. I got sloppy." Drystan murmured. "We don't even know what our target looks like."
His gaze shifted to Valery. "Can you hone in on that chamber? Want to see what we're up against."
His own Force sensing capabilities wasn't as sharp as he would have liked. For this, he'd have to rely on her.
THE MAIN LAB
Surrounded by a cadre of armed guards, Klaprith Bansen paced anxiously. Before him, an array of equipment cluttered the space—tubes, chemical containers, vials—all filled with a glowing green liquid. His fingers fidgeted against the comm piece in his ear, a sheen of nervous sweat visible on his pale, angular face. It matted his purple hair, dripping down onto the lab coat he wore.
The guards flanking him were different. Though their armor matched the others, they carried no weapons. Instead, an array of tubes ran along their backs, piercing into their spines and beneath their ribs. Inside, the same glowing green liquid pulsed idly, waiting.
"Everything's fine," he said, forcing a casual tone. "Just some... junkies who wandered into maintenance. My men got spooked, that's all. No need to worry, okay?"
Silence.
Then, a voice crackled through the comm—low, rasping, and ice-cold.
"Fine. I expect the issue resolved by the time I call back. Don't disappoint me… or I will fly down there or I will personally introduce you to your predecessor."
The words sent a shiver down Klaprith's spine. He swallowed hard, the weight of the threat pressing into his chest like a vice.
